Hi there!
Think about the last time you felt at home.
Maybe it was a childhood memory of playing in your backyard with your dog. Or perhaps it was a more recent moment, like curling up on the couch with your partner after a long day.
Wherever and whenever it was, you probably weren’t thinking about the physical place where you were. You were thinking about the feeling of being at home—being surrounded by people and things that you love. The feeling of belonging and security.
In my early 20s, I lived in a few mobile homes. Some people judged me for living in a trailer park, and, truth be told, I judged myself some days, but we were both wrong.
It just took me years to figure it out.
“Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.”
- Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.
Searching in the wrong places
Like many, I believed you define “home” by what you lived in. I imagined that the bigger the house, the more expensive the exterior, the happier the people must be.
Then I got to meet people with lots of money. I stayed in palatial homes, and got to know individuals with piles of money, and learned the truth. Most of those homes were cold, impersonal, and loveless.
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